Never Too Late
by Dark Dragoon 22
Summary: Jessika is a young senior medical student at Wakayzma Medical College, Wakayama, Japan. She meets Mortar, a rouge vampire exiled from Cult 63...
1. Chapter 1

Yo, this is my brother's account, just so u know. I'm not on mine cause my e-mail is broken. REVIEW! I LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE REVIEWS! This isn't my best work, I'll put those on later, but this is my first input to fanfiction, hope u like, or dislike, just review!

Chapter 1

Jessika slammed her fist on the counter. The door was pounded on once again. Glancing at the clock which read 3:00 AM, the 19 year old college senior reluctantly began to make her way towards the door to her apartment. It was Christmas Eve and, as usual, her roommate, Leon, was with his folks, leaving her to prepare for their final semester of college alone. Jessika wrenched the door open to the freezing pre-dawn air, a fresh flurry of snow whipping in. There on her doorstep stood a tall teen, around her age, with soaked, curly, violet hair, a pale complexion, and silver eyes shadowed with pain. His punk-street clothes were soaked with slush and blood, and his hands clutched his stomach where most of the blood seemed to come from.

"Please, let me in," he pleaded, words dripping with pain. He stood barely out of the doorway and made no move to enter without permission.

Jessika hesitated, noticing his footsteps led to every door up to hers. "O….o.k. Let me take a look at you." She planned for a carrier in medicine so helping this stranger couldn't hurt, right? The teen staggered into the apartment, relief crossing his face. He had to catch himself on her shoulder and Jessika helped him to a chair in the kitchen, sitting him down. "Wait here." She trotted to the shared bathroom, grabbing a couple towels and the first aid kit from the rack. She returned to the stranger and placed the supplies on the table. "Alright, I'm going to have to take off you jacket and shirt to treat your wound, o.k.?"

The teen nodded, a wary gleam adding to the pain in his eyes. He removed his hands from his stomach and allowed her to remove the clothes from his upper body. A gaping hole gushing blood was in the place where a human's bellybutton would be, stretching from side to side. Jessica gasped; then quickly recoverd herself. "Oh my, gosh," she whispered as she wiped away the blood with a now wet cloth. What had seemed to be a gaping hole was really a tear that started small and widened before shrinking thinly again. _It is as though someone has taken a knife to this boy_. Once the wound was cleaned, Jessika wrapped it with bandages from the kit. She tossed the towels in the washing machine beside the table, filling it and adding soap.

"What's your name?" The teen whispered behind her.

"Jessika. I'm a senior here and once I'm done, I plan to go to med school to become a surgeon. Sorry I don't have any stitches, I can get some tomorrow; my main concern right now is getting you to bed." She turned to face him, open anxiety on her face. She paced forward, offering her hand and helping him to his feet. He stumbled with her help the sofa and she lowered him onto it. Grabbing a blanket off the arm of the sofa, she spread it over him, tucking him in.

"Thank you, Jessika," He whispered, eyes closed. His face looked heavenly in the shaft of moonlight filtering through the window; but for the rings under his eyes.

"No problem…" She trailed off, not knowing his name. Jessika sighed, not bothering to wake him for he already drifted into sleep. She settled down in the chair beside the couch to watch over him as he slept, her eyes drooping as the first ray of dawn lit up the sky. Annoyed, she pulled the curtains so no light filtered in at all before settling down and slipping into slumber beside her first ever patient with a smile on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

BANG! Jessika jerked awake to a door being slammed. She looked beside her to see the teen she had helped the night, no day, before laying with eyes open, staring blindly at the ceiling. She leaped to her feet and rushed to see what had woken her up. Her cat, Misty, had over turned a flower pot, causing the door to the bathroom to slam shut.

"Damn it," She growled, sweeping up the dirt from the tile. "Misty!" The silver-grey she-cat came bounding over to her, a dead mouse in her jaws. Misty dropped the critter at her owner's feet, a triumphant purr ringing out. Jessika laughed, tossing the limp body, and lifting her cat into her arms. She carried Misty over to the boy, who had woken up, and showed her to him. "This is Misty. Misty this is…"

"Mortar," he sighed, stiffly sitting up.

Jessika's eyebrow shot up as he climbed to his feet unsteadily. "Um…Mortar, I don't think you should be standing with that wound." She put Misty down, who shied away from the teen, and made eye contact with him. "Seriously."

A brief, fake smile flitted across his face, "I just want to step outside…"

Her face darkened. "Sit, now. I am going to look at your wound and you are going to be still until _I_ am satisfied with your condition." She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow until he sat down obediently. Jessika grinned at the startled look that crossed Mortar's face, "What, thought I was going to allow my first real practice patient to run off?"

A slight smile crept across his face, lifting dark shadows she didn't know were there. "Have it your way," Mortar conceded, reluctantly. "How could I possibly win against such ferocious foes?" His words dripped with sarcasm as his gaze swept over Misty, her neck fur raised, and Jessika, a surgeon-in-training.

The student smirked and walked over to him and began to peel the bandages away. She gasped, breathing; "What on earth…" The wound was halfway healed, though what she noticed was a blood red tattoo stretching across the scarred gash. However had she found it to read kanji, Jessika could make out part of what it was saying as the wound healed: 拳銃 流罪 Pistol Exile. She shivered at the words. _Who exiled him?_ As she finished rewrapping the half-healed wound, Jessika noticed another black tattoo inscribed on the teen's shoulder. This one was particularly difficult to make out, but the American trans-student did her best. 崇拝 63: it read Cult 63, sending another chill down her back. This time Mortar noticed and jerked to his feet, a shadow clouding his face.

"I'm sorry," She said, standing to face him. "I'm an American trans-student, so I'm not too great with kanji." She explained, hoping to fix her mistake. _What, was I supposed to _not_ be attracted to the damned tattoos? Isn't that the point of them?_

Mortar stared at her, different reactions crossing his face before it closed. "You're not with them are you?" He whispered; his voice cautious.

Jessika rolled her eyes, "With _whom_; if you mean the jerks who gashed a whole in your stomach, then no. I'm not a '_spy'_!" She reached out and took his hand gently; making honest eye contact with him. "Sit down, please. Do you want something to drink; tea, coffee?" She led him to her kitchen, sitting him into a chair.

Mortar stared at her; a long, searching look through deep black eyes. "Water." He finally replied, dropping his guard.

"Ok," Jessika walked to the fridge and filled a tall glass for her patient. "I'm going to shower and get you one of my boyf—roommate's shirts." Jessika frowned at the thought of Leon, her ex. She shrugged, flashing a forced smile at Mortar before scampering to the bathroom with another pair of cloths and Misty trailing behind her. As the teen stepped into the warm spray of water, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander.

Chapter 3

"Here," Mortar looked up as the odd, black-haired girl tossed his a clean smelling grey T-shirt. As he rubbed his temples to try and rid of the headache of hunger, he noticed a sharp sadness in her he couldn't place.

"Are you alright?" He didn't know why, but her being unhappy caused the pounding in his head to worsen.

Jessika frowned, and then chuckled as she responded, "Alright? Yes; I was just thinking about the fight me and Leon, my roommate, had when we broke up." She paused, "Something about me being too wrapped up in becoming a surgeon instead of focusing on 'us'." Mortar watched her closely as her emotions changed from depression to calm control. "O.K., I think you'll be fine if you don't exert yourself stupidly."

His smile faded as a wave of nausea passed over him; it had been too long since his last feed. "I must leave…" He stumbled to his feet and snatched his blue, fur-lined coat from the chair back. He evaded the girl's enthralled gaze as he pulled a long Samurai sword from its folds and tied it to his belt. Before Mortar could reach the apartment's door, Jessika barred his way.

"Oh, I see; now you run away?" She glared at him, sending a tingle down his spine: _What was she?_ "First, you stumble to my door, and then you get all fixed up. And as soon as I give the O.K., you continue to run from whoever exiled you from their glorious Cult 63!" He sighed; obviously she could read well, for an American. _Like I was, _he realized.

"Jess, you don't understand at all. The Cult isn't what you're thinking! We—"

"You're a vampire, aren't you?" She laughed, her eyes dancing. Mortar stared at her, expecting revulsion at her realization. "You're not running from _me_. I'm coming with you! Come…" He started as she grabbed his hand, sending a new wave of nausea through him.

"Humans…" He grumbled as she dragged him into her room. The vampire was shocked to see black walls and dragons statues as the main theme in the happy woman's room. Even more surprised he was to see her pull a short-bladed Samurai sword from her closet; a grin on her face as she buckled the belt to her jeans, pulling her red v-neck shirt over it so only the sword showed. Then she snatched a traveler's coat from the rack and slipped it on.

"Come on! If you need to leave so bad, let's go!" Mortar shook his head, trying to dispel the hunger as he followed his new friend outside into the ice-cold night air; not feeling the cold at all.


	3. Chapter 4

**Obviously, they're speaking Japanese, but if I wrote it in Japanese, no one would understand… Many thx to xBlackSoul for her glorious review and advice! U inspired me… also I love your profile! **_**Twilight**_** RULES! REVIEW PLEASE! Ok, here it is…**

Chapter 4

Jessika's heart pounded as she stepped outside with the vampire. She was still awed by what he was, and was ignoring her instinct to run from him. Forcing herself to calm down, Jessika took Mortar's hand in her own and ran; dragging the vampire behind her. Before she knew what was happening, Mortar had overtook her pace, and she found herself in his place; the one being dragged. They weaved through allies like a maze with no end. Jessika was completely lost when Mortar finally stopped. He released her hand and leaned heavily on the wall, sliding to the musty floor.

As she sat beside him and closed her eyes, attempting to catch her breath, a leering voice rang out from farther down the alleyway. "Well, well, what do we have here; A couple of kids on our turf!"

"Yeah, look; a girl, too!" A ragged cough followed the stream of laughter from what sounded like, at least, ten men.

"Jess, can you use that sword?" Mortar hissed in her ear, tension coating his words.

Jessika grinned at him, "Of 'course! I took lessons before I came here for college. I took fencing in the U.S. and I wanted to gain some cultural background on Samurais."

He nodded, climbing to his feet. As Jessika joined him, his challenge rang out, "Turf? What, are you some sort of gang? We're just passing through; so back down!" His words were followed by laughter from the ring leader.

The man stepped from the shadows and the trans-student gasped as she saw him clearly. He wore a tattered tunic, obviously stolen, with a sword tied to his waste. _What, are guns outlawed here? Or is it some sort of ritual for every gang to have a sword?_ Jessika pondered as the leader responded to their threat. "Who are you to think have grounds to order us around?" He barked dangerously, "We'll rip ya to shreds!"

Mortar grinned in response. He unsheathed his sword, eyes alight with challenges, "We'll just see about that!"

Jessika barely had a change to pull out her own sword as a grimy man rushed at her aimed to kill. She whipped her blade in a block, focusing in on her opponent; the three-year-old training returning with each impact of the two swords. The man swung with drunken certainty, colliding with strength. She staggered backwards slightly, and he took advantage, slicing her arm. She gasped and dropped to her knee, swinging her sword to cut his ankles, feeling the connection and hearing his scream as one of his feet was nearly severed. She left the man to face a new opponent. Eventually, the vampire and her were gaining an advantage, their arms and faces covered with scrapes and cuts; although Mortar's healing was virtually instant.

Finally, the leader shouted to retreat and his men gratefully gathered, backing away from the two solitary figures. "We'll let you escape this time, but don't cross paths with us again!"

"Or what," Jessika retorted, anger lining her speak, "You'll be beat again? We can take you any time!" She wiped her sword on the limp body of the one gang member who had fallen, and sheathed it. The leader glared before turning and leading his men away.

Mortar sighed and Jessika watched as he gazed longingly at the bloody sword before dropping it to the dust. She could tell he wouldn't last much longer without blood and that thought left her clueless. _How can I get him some blood?_ She pondered, desperately. Her attention was drawn from her thoughts as the vampire groaned and slipped to the floor once more. _His wound!_ The girl rushed over to him and knelt beside him. "Mortar, your wound! Let me see if it's—"

He placed a finger to her lips, his hand shaking. "No human remedies can heal me the way blood can." He laughed, strain in his words and expression. "So I'm doomed, for I haven't the strength even to drink that dead man over there…" His eyelids began to droop, but not from exhaustion; from starvation.

Panic fluttered in her chest as she surveyed her choices, "I could help you, I'll drag the man over to you. You can't die now, again, after you survived that slash!" She couldn't quite hide the panic and worry in her features, nor her tone.

The vampire grinned and shook his head, "No, that would be pathetic, besides you couldn't even drag that man over here! Look at you, your worse off than me!" Even though his eyes were closed, he acted as though nothing were wrong.

Determination replaced horror as the college senior stood and strode to the dead man and began tugging him towards Mortar. "Oh, so now you think I'm just going to let you die? My first patient? Demon, you understand me not!" She stopped trying to pull the heavy man when realized Mortar did not respond. "Mortar?" She rushed back to his side and shook him, trying to wake him. "Mortar?!" She didn't know why there was panic seizing her every limp, or why the life of this vampire mattered, but something whispered their fates intertwined; which influenced her to lay him on his back. Leaning over the dying vampire, she pried his mouth open, hands shaking. The senior took her wrist and shakily pressed it to one of his teeth, gasping as the skin broke and blood seeped into Mortar's throat. She grimaced when the teeth clamped down on her wrist, drawing the blood forth.

Mortar's eyes remained closed as he drank, sitting up, and Jessika watched his scrapes begin to heal rapidly as her blood was drained. As the vampire was hurting her, she let out a slight whimper as the teeth dug in harder. As soon as the noise escaped her throat, Mortar's eyes snapped open and he released her wrist immediately. She pressed her hand to the wound and grinned into the troubled expression on the vampire's face. "Told you I wasn't going to let you die, didn't I?" She staggered to her feet at the same time he rose and found herself caught in his arms as she fell. "Sorry," she muttered, but she did not try to pull away from his grip.

His arms were wrapped around her from behind and the vampire breathed into her ear, "I could have killed you."

She laughed dully at his words, "Well, you didn't, right? What could I do? You were dieing—" She stopped as he cut her off.

"I know. But you are still a human; you're young. I deserved to die the day I became a vampire; your life is precious. Mine is not worth your sacrifices."

His tone was soft, the softest since Jessika had met him; and it sent a calm over her battered body, "My _life_?" She responded, incredulous despite the weariness that swept over her. "It's not my fault I care… besides, something told me not to let you die…." She had to concentrate to keep her words from slurring. She willing stopped talking as he placed his finger to her mouth, even at the awkward angle they were at.

He placed her against the wall and retrieved his sword from the ground, wiped it on the dead man and sheathed it. Then he took in his arms like a child and ran with her through the allies and to where ever they were to go next. Her last conscious memory as she drifted to sleep was the smell of Mortar's jacket; the scent she could not place, but somehow it seemed vaguely familiar…

**(A/N: you like? I hope it doesn't seemed rushed… REVIEW! And don't worry, I remember Leon and Misty, they're chapter is next… Thx for the reviews, again, xBlackSoul! See y'all soon. –Greymist)**


	4. Chapter 5

**Merry Christmas!!! I was is Maryland for half of this chapter. Ok… Here's the fifth chapter! It's Leon/Misty/Jessika Hope u like… REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **

Chapter 5

Leon walked into the empty apartment. The lights were off; a sense of heaviness coating the still air. He had just returned from his family after Christmas to help Jessika finish their preparations for school. As he walked into the unlocked apartment, Leon saw a figure sitting at the table stroking Misty as the cat ate its food.

"Hello Leon," The voice was female, a menacing layer hidden in its depths.

Realization dawned on him as the voice clicked into place, "Clarice!" He greeted, "Why are you here? Jessika could see you!" He realized was still in the doorway and stepped forward, swinging the door shut.

The figure stood and strode forward until she was face to face with him. He could see the scar that stretched across her face in the moonlight, _From her brother_, he recalled. The semi-short woman jabbed her finger into his chest angrily, "No, she won't, Leon! She won't because she's with my damned brother running away; what he's best at!" She smirked at his shocked expression and sneered mockingly, "What, never thought that your ex-, who you _claimed_ was still rapped around your finger, would run off with a rogue vampire?" She brushed her short black hair out of her hazel eyes; flashing with clear frustration.

"Why are you here if you are supposed to be chasing after the traitor of Cult 63?" Leon queried. He took the vampire by her arm and led her back to the table to sit her down.

Clarice bared her fangs angrily, "_That_ is why I'm here. If this _cat_ is loyal; I'm hoping she will lead me to Twinkletoes and your ex-!" She crossed her legs, a near impossible task due to how tight her leather pants were, and ran her hand through her messy black hair. "If the cat-"

"Misty." Leon corrected, knowing Jessika would have as well. A sharp pang struck his heart at the thought of her… He had asked her out and was near proposing when his master,**(A/C: Ken is Japanese for "born of fire" and Ryu is "dragon" so Ryuken is "dragon born of fire". my name. u guys can use it though…)**, died suddenly; placing Leon's service on the balance between Mortar and his disagreeable half-sister who had no rights to the position as resident over Cult 63. She won, obviously, the throne by blaming 's dead on his only son; who happened not to be a bastard like Clarice.** (A/C: she's not even related to Ken and was born outside matrimony.)**

The vampiric master glanced at him, reading the emotions, and maybe even the thoughts, behind his words with a steady glare. "Fine, _Misty_," she spat the word with clear distaste at his emotions, "If she doesn't do her job, I'll kill it." Leon flinched and a cruel grin began to spread across her face, "I am getting… hungry…" She winked at him before she leaped to her feet, "You are coming with me. Jessika's ignorance was your responsibility, therefore you shall watch as we remove her organs one at a time and offer them unto Chiyakane **(A/C: Chiyakane is a merge of the word Chiyo, "thousand generations of the world", and Akane, "Deep Red", which translates to "thousand generations of the deep red" my name. u guys can use it as well. Names are on **** Okay.)! **I bet you'll be horrified, my slave, and I will be laughing at the heavens as she dies, her screams ringing in my ears!" She paused, frowning, "But how would dear old Mortar feel about this?" She grinned and snatched up Misty and Leon's elbow, herding them out into the night air, her laughter peeling out in hysterics. She placed Misty on the ground and followed her as the cat sprinted after the scent trail.

Misty waved her tail warily, the fur rising on her neck. She smelled the air; searching for any sign of where Jessika had been. She could feel the unnatural creature still following her. The cat hesitated before continuing after her human friend, indecision reverberating in her every paw step.

The blue-grey she-cat quickened her pace as she scented blood, worry tingling the fur along her spine. Jessika's scent crossed with the blood along with that of the creature called Mortar who Jessika seemed partial to. Anxiety shot through Misty as the cat avoided pools of blood. She sat in confusion as Mortar's scent overrode her friend's and led away at an alarming rate.

She realized that the scents merged, meaning he _carried_ her. The she-cat jumped to her paws and sprinted after the trail, her tail raised in triumph. Soon weariness dragged that tail down, dragging those eager paws as the cat trudged onward. She panted heavily and felt wonderful relief surge through her as two sleeping forms came into sight range. Mortar and Jessika were tucked under a hidden overhang in the deserted alley. She padded over to Jessika and curled into her stomach, falling into a deep sleep; only latter would she remember the monster trailing her own scent to her friend…

Jessika groggily surfaced from her sleep; she glanced at her warm stomach to see Misty curled into it. She was confused before she realized the cat must've followed her. She peered over her shoulder awkwardly, to see Mortar laying with his back to her, his eyes open in sleepless rest.

"You're awake," He muttered distantly, climbing to his feet as though he was chained to the ground. "I was wondering if you would…" He whispered that, obviously to himself.

"Why wouldn't I?" She challenged, lifting her cat into arms as she stood.

His response was a smirk as she swayed drunkenly and found his arms around her once more before she noticed he even moved. "I suppose I'll have to carry you again, miss blood donor," he replied smoothly, pulling the trans-student into his arms, cradle-style. She feebly protested but stopped when he froze, eyes shading black from silver-blue.

"Wha--" He placed a finger to her lips sending a mental shiver down her spine.

"That cat; was she there when you woke?" His voice had lost its teasing edge, taking on a familiar anxiety. He placed her back on her feet, grabbing her shoulders and making eye contact with her.

Jessika dropped her gaze to Misty, registering the urgency in the vampire's voice and the wide-eyed warning of her terrified cat: _the Cult_. "Yes, she was there…" It all slipped into place as a figure dropped to the ground on her right from the top of the overhanging shelter.

The morning dew soaked the tight leather clothing of the semi-short vampire woman. She shook the moisture from her shortly cropped black hair. "Brother!" She greeted with loosely concealed distaste, "What a surprise meeting you here!"

Mortar faced his sister, a snarl rising in his throat, "Beloved Clarice." Somehow he kept his voice completely calm as he faced his sister with hateful eyes. "Shouldn't you be taking care of my Cult?" Mischief glittered beside the hate as he layered his words with sarcasm.

Obviously, Mortar knew how to get under her skin; for she bared her teeth, anger glittering in her hazel eyes, "_Your_ Cult? If you wanted it so bad, why did you let me blame you for Ken's death?"

The vampire flinched, "If you wish to speak of fathers, then shall we mention your lack of one? How you have _no rights _to_ my_ throne?" His fists clenched in defiance, "No, the perfect Clara must be innocent!"

She glared at him; wishing nothing but death in her look for him. The thought, _if looks could kill_, crossed Jessika's mind. **(A/C: for xBlackSoul, from Twilight, lol.)**

"How come you use and kill humans for gain?" He obviously wished to change the topic; keep her talking as he assessed their situation.

"Ha," She mocked, "Because it's fun." She smirked, "Not all of us kill for necessity, Mortar." She spat his name, her Russian accent adding to the effect. "Leon, dear," She called over her shoulder, catching Jessika off guard, "I'm almost ready!" She turned around to face her brother and lunged, sword drawn.

Mortar used his to block just in time as the two flew into the dance of swordplay. Jessika couldn't keep up with their speed and could only hope Mortar was alright.

"Jessika!" A relieved voice called as Leon can running over to her. He wrapped his arms around her in hello.

She jerked away, Misty leaping away to the overhang; where she crouched and watched helplessly. "You knew." She understood it all now. "You knew and you kept it hidden! I can't _believe_ you!" She hardened her gaze to his hurt expression.

"Jessika… I'm sorry. My family has always served the leader of the Cult. I belong to Mortar, but Clarice is the leader, so…" He sighed and gave her a sad and pained look. "Forgive me." Before she could do anything, Leon hit her on the back of her neck, knocking her unconscious. _What now?_


End file.
